


Flannels and Graphic Tees

by Random_Fandom_writer



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Drifting Apart, Homophobia, Jared isn't the best, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pining, Pining Evan Hansen, Poor Evan, Strained Friendships, Unrequited Love, bisexual awakenings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21208169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Fandom_writer/pseuds/Random_Fandom_writer
Summary: Evan doesn't know when it started exactly. He thinks it may have started in eighth grade, though he can't be too sure.Or...Evan is pining. Hard.





	Flannels and Graphic Tees

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling like writing some Kleinsen (because I'm a sucker for this ship as of recent) and this happened. Have some pining Evan.
> 
> Also, hit a block with my multi chapter. Currently writing some more chapters in between the pre written ones because I will never be satisfied with how it is. Have this instead.
> 
> Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, slight homophobia

Evan doesn't know when it started exactly. He thinks it may have started in eighth grade, though he can't be too sure. He remembers eighth grade a little bit, he sort of tried to block it out. Everyone tries to block out eighth grade.

He remembers Jared, the old Jared. What happened to old Jared?

Evan tries to convince himself he's not gone, because that means letting go, letting go of the past, and of the last pieces he's clutching onto so desperately.

No, old Jared isn't gone, he's just hiding. Yeah he's hiding, he knows that. Stupid Evan, of course he isn't gone. He can't be gone, or else he wouldn't notice how when they're alone, Jared lets his shoulders relax, lets his hands _taptaptap_ on the table, lets himself _laugh_, laugh at stupid things- not that gross fake cackle he's always doing in public. His laugh is small and breathy, and a bit too high pitch, and it sort of makes Evan cringe, but that's ok because its genuine and real.

Jared doesn't laugh like that anymore. And he stands stiffly now, with a too straight back, and his hands wrapped around his backpack straps as if he lets go they'll start_ taptaptapping_ again. Like it's a bad thing. Is it a bad thing? Should Evan stop tapping at the table too?

Instead he'll start tapping more. He doesn't want to become a Jared, because Jared is rough, and brash, and dorky in an awkward thirteen year old way.

That's the one thing that hasn't changed. He still wears dumb graphic tees from the kids department in some dumb retail store with a dumb flannel over top, and probably the same dumb glasses he picked out when he was thirteen.

Thirteen.

What was he talking about?

Right. Eighth grade. When this all began, or at least when he _thinks_ this all began.

* * *

It's winter, or nearing winter anyways. It sure is cold enough to call it winter. Him and Jared are curled up in a pile of blankets, a cup of hot chocolate in each of their hands. The heater broke in the Kleinman's house during their bi-weekly sleepover, so this is the best they can do until Heidi can get off work and bring him into their heated home. 

Jared looks really pretty with his cheeks flushed.

Which is no- what- where the hell- wrong.

He can feel his face heating up, although it doesn't make much of a difference to his already rosy cheeks.

Evan is not gay. And not gay people don't think that about other boys. He likes girls.

Maybe he is gay. That does seem like a pretty gay thing to think.

He tries to think back if there was anyone else he found cute.

He thinks he once said he'd marry Peter Pan when he was little. Is that evidence? Has Evan been lying to himself this whole damn time?

He can feel his heartrate increasing, can hear Jared start to worry as he notices him shaking, and pretends not to notice the warm feeling in his stomach when Jared holds his hands in concern.

***

Bisexuality is a thing he learned after much research on private mode on google. Just in case his mom checks is search history again.

He doesn't know if he's ready to accept it yet, if maybe it's just a fluke and he's actually very straight and he's just lying to himself more.

He tries not to panic over it, which is a problem because that means only letting himself think about it for minutes at a time before he goes _spirallingspirallingspiralling. _It's even harder, because he has to see Jared every damn day, and his stupid brain keeps supplying _'his eyes are so pretty,' _and_ 'I want to hold his hand,' _which apparently is as risqué as his thirteen year old mind can supply at the time. It's still terrifying to think about nonetheless.

* * *

High school is a bit different than middle school. Much bigger, much judgier. In response Jared has taken to talking to other people. Cooler people. People who go to parties and make out with sophomores, and don't have panic attacks over ordering food.

Which is ok of course, Jared can hang out with whoever he wants.

What's not ok is when Evan looks over to see a couple of girls giggling, eyes darting to look at him every so often while Jared smiles joyfully and says something Evan can't quite catch from where he's standing.

He doesn't bring it up later, even though he knows they were laughing at him, and Jared was the reason. He doesn't really want to know what they were saying.

***

Bi-weekly sleepovers turn into monthly hang outs.

The distance makes things a little easier. And by things he means the small itty bitty crush he has on his best friend.

Yeah he's definitely bisexual.

Which is fine. What's not fine, is his incapability to tell Jared that.

He has a plan, a plan to confess but the first step in that is to tell him of his _Not Straightness._

He keeps waiting for the perfect moment. Delay, stall, delay.

Eventually he'll have to admit to himself that he's not ready to say anything yet, he shouldn't push himself, shouldn't rush.

Delay, stall, delay.

* * *

Grade ten hit hard.

Over the summer his voice dropped, and he still hasn't stopped growing. His mom says he'll be a comfortable 5"11 if he'd stop slouching.

And.

Hormones suck.

Which means that whatever left over feelings he had for a certain brunet are back and more powerful than ever because Jared looks _good. _Really good. He's still wearing the same dorky tee shirts and weird flannels, but his face is just. Good, his face looks good.

***

"Derik Nicholson came out as gay on Instagram."

Evan perks up, looking up from his math textbook to tilt his head to Jared, who's sprawled on top of his bed. "Really?" This is his chance, his chance to say something. Just subtle enough to hint at a possibly of _Not Straightness._ Something casual like _'oh do you think that means I'd have a chance with him?' _which really isn't what he wants to know. He doesn't even know Derik Nicholson. "That's-" say something. "Cool."

Dammit. He missed it. _Wrongwrongwrong._

"Cool?" Jared's staring at him now, eyebrows knitted.

"Well, yeah I guess." The words come out slowly, muddily, at least to Evan. "It's not a big deal is it?" Please hope it's not a big deal, because his breath has sort of caught in his throat as he pushes down the urge to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

"I mean, it's kinda weird, don't you think?" He artfully chooses not to respond. Not like he even could at the moment, his jaw is wired shut. "I used to have like, sleepovers with him. We shared a bed."

Evan wants to throw up.

"But like, it's- that's not a" -_breathe-_ "bad thing? Like, just because he's... Gay doesn't mean he likes you."

"Whoa dude, you don't have to get defensive, I'm just saying."

Maybe Evan should wait to say something.

Jared's not quite done yet though, because he mumbles something as he continues to scroll through social media. "Might start thinking you're gay too."

The way he says it makes him recoil, eyes stinging and hands shaking dangerously.

Luckily Jared's to busy with his phone to notice.

Evan should wait to tell him.

***

It's downhill from there.

Jared doesn't pretend to be nice anymore.

Monthly hang outs turn into close to nothing. They don't hang out outside of school other than to keep their parents content, and Jared wouldn't dare be seen talking with him if it's not to make fun of him.

He knows he should move one, find another crush, find another friend.

He latches. Latches onto his laugh, and his graphic tees and flannels.

* * *

Jared just tripped him in the hallway.

His books are scattered, papers flying and pages bent. A girl he thinks he might recognize is helping him pick everything up. He can't really tell through the tears blocking his vision, and threatening to spill.

And even with all that, Evan still can't help but smile softly whenever he catches him laughing (the real one), and can't help but frown when he immediately stops and corrects himself. Can't stop the feeling his skin gets when Jared catches his arm. He can't quite describe it. A mix of static and feather lightness, which he knows doesn't make sense, but it's what he's feeling so. Can't stop imagining what it'd be like to feel, to touch, to taste-

Evan had better stop there. And it's a good thing too, because he can see out of the corner of his eye that Jared is looking at him. He's stopped cackling, now staring at him with an indiscernible look on his face.

* * *

It was senior year, 8:24 on the fourth of September when Evans heart stops.

Jared is wearing a jean jacket, with a plain red tee.

<strike>Flannel</strike>

Jean jacket.

<strike>Graphic t-shirt</strike>

Plain red tee.

Evan doesn't think he could stop staring if he tried. He wants to stop staring, it's probably getting a bit creepy now. Yeah he'll stop staring and- he can't. He can't stop staring. It's a good thing Jared is paying him no mind.

It's not a good thing, not really, because he can't help but wish and hope and dream that Jared _was_ paying him mind. He doesn't even have to look happy about it. He can grimace, or point and say something mean and rude, but not untrue like _'what, you got the hots for me Hansen?' _and maybe tell him off. _'Didn't your mother teach you staring is rude?' _

At least then he'd be noticed.

And maybe it was because Evans eyes are _burningburningburning_ into the boys stupid jean jacket and plain red tee that he chooses to quarter turn right at Evan, which means he better snap out of it right now- '_snap out of it Evan'_

He blinks, curls and uncurls his fist, quickly raises his hand in a wave and- never mind '_put your hand down_.' Jared's not looking at him anymore. If Evan didn't know better, he'd say he was avoiding looking at him.

That's exactly what he's doing.

He's pointedly turned away from him now, back completely to Evan, as if as long as he can't see him, he's not there. What a thirteen year old thing to do.

Only it's not, not anymore.

They're not thirteen anymore.

And old Jared isn't hiding.

He's gone.

Maybe all those years of hiding, pretending, faking, actually morphed, twisted, curled into something not pretend.

Jared isn't faking it anymore. This is Jared.

He hears him laugh, loudly, and cackley, and gross, but it doesn't sound as forced anymore, which means Jared turned into a really great actor over the summer, or that is really just how he is now.

Evan is going to cry.

He remembers that no matter how distant the two of them were, when Evan was feeling Bad, Jared would be there. Breathing with him, and making jokes that were much more gentle than his usual jabs and insults.

Jared isn't going to be there this time. He's to busy laughing that stupid laugh with his <strike>other friends</strike> real friends.

He turns and runs.

Not runs, that'd look suspicious. He walks. Just a little bit too fast to be normal, but slow enough for it to be natural.

He can feel his face twisting into that gross frowny expression you make when you're about to cry, which pretty much just gives him away, so it really doesn't matter if he speeds up.

He rushes through the hallway, foyer, parking lot, out to his car. Out to his safe zone. But not the front seat, no not with that big window. He goes to the back, squeezing into the space on the floor behind the drivers seat. Nobody can see him here.

He cries.

He cries because he is falling, falling, because there isn't anything left to hold onto, and all he can do now is sink.

He lets himself sink.

**Author's Note:**

> Usually people write Jared pining over Evan and I wanted to change that. Also, I cannot write Jared so.


End file.
